Price, 25 Cents 


(7f 


d 



BILLY AND THE 
DIRECTING FATES 



PUBLISHED BY 


Tmje, Dramatic Publishing Company 

CHARLES H SERGEL . PRESIDENT 





















































JAN -6 1915 

©CI.D 39326 


TMP92-009299 




Billy and the Directing Fates 

A play in two acts 
CHARACTERS 

Billy DeWitt. 

Jim Creswell. 

Rawlins, a butler. 

• 

Time —a little after nine o’clock of a recent evening. 

The Setting is a room in a fashionable dwelling—the 
home of Miss Mildred Winston. It is the living-room 
and adjoins the music-room, in which latter apartment 
a musical is in progress. Rear Center is a double door 
opening into the hall. Left 1 is a door leading to the 
music-room, covered by a portiere hanging straight and 
heavily to the floor, and up Left across the corner is a 
fireplace in which are seen burning logs. About R. 2 
is a window covered with a lace-curtain. Snow is fall¬ 
ing outside and the wind is heard. U. R. is a small table 
and on it is a lighted lamp shedding subdued rays. 

Just Right of Center, so as to give almost a clear view 
of the rear door, is a table—a living-room table, cov¬ 
ered with books, papers, a framed photograph or so, and 
a vase of flowers. Left of table is a comfortable arm 
chair and right of table is another, or a rocking chair. 
There may be other chairs in the room sufficient to give 
it a comfortable appearance. 

3 





4 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Before the curtain rises piano music is heard off left 
and just before it is finished the curtain slowly goes up 
and then the music is finished and there is a pattering of 
applause from the other room, followed by laughter and 
the hum of conversation. The stage is empty. As it 
becomes quiet in the other room a knocking is heard at 
the window R. Dead silence. The knocking is heard 
again, more insistently, and then a violin solo begins in 
the adjoining room, and at the same time Rawlins, the 
butler, enters left from rear, and stands in the doorway 
and listens. 

During the action of the play music is heard m the 
other room, the selections following one another about 
as they would at an evening’s musical entertainment in 
a private home. Except where designated they are piano 
numbers. The selections can not be too long and must 
be of a popular-classical order. The length of time 
between each number may vary as desired. The music 
must at all times not be too loud but sound suppressed 
as if really in another room. A slight applause follows 
each number and a barely perceptible murmur of voices. 

Rawlins. [Goes toward window and listens.'] It 
must have been the wind. [He turns back toward door.] 

[The knocking is again heard, followed by voice. 
Rawlins stops and turns.] 

Jim [Outside]. Rawlins! Rawlins! Is that you? 

Rawlins [Looking cautiously about and stepping 
lightly to the window and opening it just a little—the 
wind blows the curtains]. Yes. Who’s there? 

Jim [With voice more distinct]. Open the side door. 
I want to come in. 

Rawlins. Yes—but— 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


5 


Jim. How long are you going to keep me out here in 
the snow? It’s Mr. Creswell and I want to come in. 

Rawlins. Mr. Creswell? [Surprised.] The front 
door is open, sir. 

Jim. And the side door isn’t, and that’s wha,t I want. 
Be quick! 

Rawlins. Very well, sir. [He closes window and 
turns toward rear door.] This is strange. I wonder 
what’s the matter. [He exits rear right.] 

[During this interval nothing is heard except the song 
of the violin, and then the opening and closing of a door 
off R. and the noise of feet as if stamping snow from 
shoes.] 

[Rawlins enters from rear R.] 

Rawlins. Right in here, sir. There’s no one here. 

[Jim enters in long overcoat, covering a suit of dark 
clothes y not evening-clothes, gloves on and hat in hand. 
He is above medium height.] 

Jim. Are you sure no one will see me? 

Rawlins [Still mystified]. Sure, sir. The program 
has only begun and everybody is in the other room. 

Jim. Very well. And if you see anyone coming this 
way, let me know and let me out. [Starting to take off 
gloves.] 

Rawlins. Shall I take your things, sir? 

Jim. No. I may want them suddenly. I’ll put them 
here ! [Pointing to chair near door.] Rawlins! 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. 

Jim. Do you know Mr. DeWitt when you see him? 
Mr. Billy DeWitt? 

Rawlins. The gentleman I see so often with you? 
Yes, sir. 


6 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Jim. Is he here—yet? 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. 

Jim. Did he come alone? 

Rawlins [Thinking] . No, sir. 

Jim. Do you know with whom? 

Rawlins. No, sir. I don’t know her. 

Jim. What does she look like ? 

Rawlins. I only noticed, sir, that she was dark and 
slender, and—pardon me, sir—very good-looking. 

Jim [Looking as if he had gained the desired informa¬ 
tion hut was not pleased ]. So you noticed that , did you? 

Rawlins. Well—sir—being as— 

Jim. That will do. [Quickly. ] Find him for me and 
send him here. Tell him who wants him. You needn’t 
come back. And Rawlins! 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. 

Jim. Remember what I said about letting no one in 
here. Tell Mr. DeWitt to hurry. And until I have 
gone stay nearby where I can call you. I may need you. 
That’s all now. [Handing him a com.] 

Rawlins. Very well, sir—and thank you, sir. [Crosses 
up to rear door and exits left.] 

[Jim finishes taking off his gloves and coat and lays 
them on the chair. He crosses to the window and looks 
out and nothing is heard except the violin and the wind. 
He stands there, thinking , his hack to the music-room 
door. Suddenly the portiere is hurriedly thrust aside 
and Billy enters briskly. He is of medium stature and 
in immaculate evening dress. At the sound of his enter¬ 
ing , Jim turns.] 

Billy. Hello, Jim! You here? Thought you weren ’t 
coming. [Notices his expression.] Why, what’s the 
matter ? 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


7 


Jim. I didn’t intend to come, but decided later. 

Billy. But your clothes— 

Jim. I’m not going in there. 

Billy. What’s up? Anything happened at the 
rooms ? 

Jim [Quietly]. Nothing has happened at home. 

Billy. But I don’t understand. [ Pauses, and violin 
is still heard.] [Changing manner.] Say, old man, you 
must go in. Old Hauffstein isn’t doing a thing to that 
fiddle. The women are all looking as emotional as a 
romantic matinee, and Mildred— 

Jim. Mildred ? 

Billy. —like the persecuted heroine in the third act 
of a melodrama. [Amused at his carrying out the idea.] 

Jim [Sharply]. Don’t talk like that, Billy. 

Billy [Reverting to his former manner]. But how 
did you get in ? 

Jim. Rawlins—side door. 

Billy. Well, if you’re running away from anyone, 
tell me about it. This is past me. 

Jim [Pointing to chair left of table]. Sit down there 
—and listen. [Taking chair R. of table.] This has got 
to be settled before I leave, and I may have to clear out 
any moment. I mustn’t be seen, and above all, Mildred 
must not know that I’m here—or have been here. Under¬ 
stand ? 

Billy. If it’s as bad as that and there’s anything I 
can do —[Lighting cigarette]. 

Jim. Put that out; they’ll smell it in there. [Then 
apparently lost in reflection y but in reality lost as to what 
to say.] 

Billy [Extinguishing cigarette]. If you’re going to 
sit there mooning like a homesick kid, I’m going in. 


8 BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 

[Rising.] There’s music in there and some pretty girls, 
and that for me. [Pauses.] If you’ll talk and tell me 
why you’re here, all right—if not— 

Jim. Just a minute, Billy. 

Billy [Sitting]. Well? 

Jim. There’s no use in going into details in this. 
You know about Mildred and—me—know what she’s 
meant to me for over two years. [Looking away.] It’s 
done with now. 

Billy [Quickly]. Done with? 

Jim [Not noticing]. But there’s one thing I want to 
be straight on. You’ll answer me frankly, Billy? 

Billy [Not understanding]. As I can. 

Jim. Well, it’s this. [Slowly and pointedly.] I 
never knew before, until today—this evening, that there 
has been anyone else who from the very start might 
have occupied my place. [Billy starts and looks at him 
closely.] If I were to ask you, Billy, you, if you knew 
when we first met Mildred that you would have liked to 
have held that place— [Pause] what would you say? 

[He stops and looks Billy earnestly in the face. Billy 
attempts to return the look—starts as if to speak—and 
then looks away.] 

Jim [With force]. You needn’t answer. So you, 
Billy, my very best friend, have seen me deceiving my¬ 
self when it has been in your power to put me straight. 
Why didn’t you speak in the beginning? Do you think 
you were treating me fairly in the matter ? Is that what 
you call friendship if you did it for friendship’s sake? 
And Mildred! Couldn’t you have had some pity for her 
—enough to bring me to my senses? I tell you it wasn’t 
a square deal for her—or me. 

Billy. I hardly know what to say. But you’re 




BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


9 


wrong. There was a time when I thought I cared for 
her, but when I saw how much you cared I made up my 
mind not to, mostly because I wasn’t sure of myself in 
the matter. 

Jim. One is always sure in this. 

Billy. If they have your viewpoint. With me it’s 
different. 

Jim. But you surely must have noticed her through 
it all. 

Billy. Only that she was apparently happy with 
you. She couldn’t deceive you, or herself for that mat¬ 
ter. And conceding that such is the case, it’s absurd to 
think that— 

Jim. That it is you, Billy? Is it absurd to think 
that? 

Billy. It’s damned rot to think it. [Changing man¬ 
ner .] But is that why you’re here? I don’t see yet. 
And how do you know ? 

Jim. From the only source I could know. 

Billy. She told you? 

Jim. No, she wrote me. f Hurriedly .] Last night I 
came here to do the thing I’d waited months for—and— 
I did. 

\ 

Billy. You— 

Jim. I asked her to—marry me—and— 

Billy. And— ? 

Jim. She didn’t answer. I was mystified, completely 
taken off my feet, I was sure she would accept me. And 
then she spoke and I scented disaster in her first tone. 
She asked me to go, and said she would write in the 
morning. [Pause.] I waited all day and no word came. 
Then you left and a messenger arrived and I came here 


10 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


—because I had to see you before it was too late. 
[Pause.] 

Billy. Too late ? How ? 

Jim. I suppose if this were in a story, Billy, it would 
behoove me to fly at you with a dagger or a challenge, 
but in life that is only the means of defeating your own 
ends. There ’s but one thing to be considered, now. Not 
my happiness; not yours. But hers. [Takes letter from 
pocket and hands it to Billy.] Here’s the letter. 
Read it. 

[Jim crosses to door of music-room to see if there is 
any danger of detection while Billy takes the letter and 
looks wonderingly at it. He then goes back to his for¬ 
mer position while Billy opens the letter rather ner¬ 
vously and then begins to read.] 

Billy [Reading]. “Dear old Jim”— 

Jim. That part wasn’t necessary. 

Billy [Continues]. “If I have done wrong by you, 
please don’t judge me harshly. I couldn’t marry you, 
Jim, in justice to you. If I were to be the only one 
who suffered ultimately it might be considered, but it 
wouldn’t end right for you. We can’t always love those 
who love us. And in justice to you, Jim, I must tell you 
why I can’t marry you. It’s because I love someone 
else. You remember at the time you entered my life you 
brought”— [He stops suddenly.] 

Jim. Go on. 

Billy [Continuing], “brought Billy. [He pauses 
and looks away.] And I pray God, Jim, that you 
understand and help me.” [He folds the letter and 
without a word hands it back to Jim.] 

Jim. Do you understand now, Billy? 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 11 

4 

Billy. Understand what? 

Jim [Quickly to the point]. Whom did you bring 
here tonight? 

Billy [ Surprised ]. Why,—Lucy Loring, of course. 
[Pauses.] I never dreamed of this. 

Jim. I know that. But in view of this [Holding up 
note], are you going to continue with this—Lucy 
Loring ? 

Billy. That’s my business. 

Jim [Strongly]. But Mildred! There’s one thing 
you’ve got to do. 

Billy. What? [Sullenly.] 

Jim [Changing]. How far has this gone between 
you and this—woman? 

Billy. I don’t like your tone. I appreciate your 
position, but the affairs of Miss Loring and me are our 
own business. [Decidedly.] 

Jim. You and that—lady are no more suited to one 
another than— 

Billy. And because you think so must I submit to 
what you think is best? [Rising.] And when it comes 
to my own happiness, why can’t I be happy with Lucy 
Loring ? 

Jim. That’s impossible and as soon as you give up 
this infatuation you’ll see it. 

Billy. And I say that it isn’t impossible. I’m not 
to be dragged into anything not to my liking for your 
sake or Mildred’s either. I recognize your desires, but 
I still insist that I’m not going to sacrifice myself simply 
because you think it is up to me to do so. 

Jim. Not so loud. They’ll hear you. 

Billy. Well, I won’t. 


12 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Jim. [Rising]. All right. Then if I can’t lead you 
I’ll drive you. Depend on that. If the circumstances 
were purely conceptional your words would have some 
weight, but the real conditions are more than ideal, and 
you talk like a fool. 

[They stand facing each other across the table and 
before Billy can speak Rawlins quietly enters, standing 
in rear door.] 

Rawlins. I beg pardon, sir, but Miss Loring asked 
me to find Mr. DeWitt. 

Billy [Looking defiantly at Jim and then speaking 
calmly to Rawlins]. Tell her I’ll be there at once. 

Rawlins. Very well, sir. [Exits rear—to left.] 

Billy. I’ve had enough of this. I’m going. [Crosses 
L - ] 

Jim [Mopping his face with handkerchief]. I can’t 
dissuade you, then, in regard to this Lucy Loring ? 

Billy. No,— you can’t. 

Jim. If through any chance—she’d leave the city,— 
do you think then there’d be a chance for— 

Billy. You’re wasting your time. If I had never 
met her— 

Jim [Quickly coming around table]. Very well, then. 
This Loring woman has never existed and we’ll work 
for that chance. 

Billy. Now you We the fool. She ’s in the other room 
and 7’m going in. [Over to door L.] 

Jim. Yes, but won’t be for long. 

Billy. What do you mean? 

Jim. Just what I say. [Trying to gain time and his 
self-control.] Billy, some people in the weave of our 
social fabric are the moths that eat holes in it, and it’s 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING PATES 


13 


often through those very holes that we see things as 
they should be. 

[There is no reply. Billy is too wrought up to trust 
himself to speak or to wait longer and he turns, ivith a 
tone of disgust, to leave the room.] 

Jim [Quickly, and just as Billy is about to leave]. 
Do you remember Dick Shepherd? 

Billy [Turning back sharply]. Dick Shepherd! 
What’s he to do with this? 

Jim. He went West, you know, and married while 
there. 

Billy. Well? 

Jim. He had trouble with his wife. You knew that, 
too? 

Billy. Yes. [Still sullenly.] 

Jim. And he left her. She said there was another 
woman, but she only reversed the affair. We know 
Dick. 

Billy. But what— ? 

Jim. Just a minute.—Then she and the woman she 
implicated, who was of her sort, disappeared. Dick kept 
it out of the papers. 

Billy. Well? I don’t see that you— 

Jim [ Interrupting ]. Well, this Lucy Loring, Billy, 
to whom you cling so tenaciously, is— 

Billy. The other woman, I suppose. [With a tone 
of not believing him.] 

Jim. No — [Driving the point at him ]—is Mrs. 
Shepherd. 

Billy. How do you know? [Sneeringly.] 

Jim. Dick wrote me. Had her traced here and said 
to keep her identity unknown unless there was trouble. 


14 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Billy [His coolness breaking and speaking loudly, 
crossing C. toward Jim]. You lie! I don’t believe you. 

Jim. Billy. 

Billy. I don’t believe you, I say. You lie. 

Jim. Do you think I’d tell you such a thing unless 
it were true? 

Billy. I think it is a trap and you ’re telling it to me 
to see what I’ll do. 

Jim. I tell you it’s the truth. The letter is at my— 

Billy [Excitedly interrupting ]. What do you think 
I am, anyway? You spring a cock and bull story at a 
convenient time and ask me to conveniently believe it. 

Jim. I ask you only to take my word. 

Billy. I’ll take nobody’s word and neither would 
you. Humph! [Disgustedly.] It’s got to be proved 
before I believe it. 

Jim [Impatiently]. But I can’t prove it now. You 
must believe me. 

Billy. I don’t care to discuss the matter further 
with you,—or any other matter,—do you understand? 

Jim. You mean— 

Billy. I mean that until you retract what you say 
we can have nothing more in common. Good-night. 
[He goes to door of music-room.] 

Jim [As Billy is about to leave]. Just a minute. 
[Billy stops, but neither turns nor speaks.] Will you 
take a note in there with you? 

Billy [Without turning]. To whom? 

Jim. To Miss Loring. 

Billy. That depends. 

Jim. Wait! [He goes to back of table quickly and 
opens drawer and finds a piece of note paper. He sits 
L. of table and hurriedly writes.] 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


15 


[Billy turns slowly and angrily and watches him. 
Jim finishes and crosses to Billy.] 

Jim. Listen. [Reading.'] “Mrs. Dick Shepherd. 
Billy hands yon this to let you know that we both know 
who you are. He brought Lucy Loring with him 
tonight. The car is still at the door. Mrs. Shepherd 
will go home at once and tomorrow will probably visit 
friends in another city. James Creswell.” There’s 
your proof. Do you think I’d send that in unless I 
were sure? And what she does after she reads it will 
show you conclusively whether I am right or wrong. 
[Folding up note and handing it toward Billy.] I’m 
going now. I’ll meet you at the club tomorrow at lunch. 

[Billy looks at the paper and then at Jim, hut doesn’t 
speak nor take the note .] 

Jim. I’m game to send that in there. [Daringly.] 
Are you game to take it? 

['Confronted with this phase of the situation, there is 
nothing for Billy to do hut to take it. So he takes the 
note from Jim’s hand and looks at him almost defiantly 
for a moment.\ 

Billy. I’ll take it. \In a tone as if he were calling a 
hluff .] Wait for me here. 

Jim. All right. 

[Billy turns and goes into the music-room with the 
note. Jim steps quickly hack from the range of vision 
through the door as it opens. And as it opens a song is 
heard to begin—a baritone solo. As Billy closes the 
door behind him the song sounds softer. Jim stands 
looking intently in the direction of the door, with one 
hand raised to his face, as the curtain comes slowly down 
to the music in the next room.] 


16 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


ACT TWO. 

[The scene is the same. During the intermission, 
which must not he too long, the house-lights are not 
turned on and the foots are left up, holding the interest 
to the stage while Jim is supposed to he waiting. 

During the intermission the baritone solo is heard to 
continue and then to close, with patter of faint applause 
from music-room. There is a moment’s quiet and then 
another number begins—a violin solo. After it is fairly 
started the curtain is slowly raised. Jim is discovered 
at the window, looking out at the falling snow, and 
waiting. He turns his head toward the music-room and 
listens. Then he crosses down L. quietly and alertly to 
the door and intently listens again. He stands so a 
moment and then nervously crosses up stage and in 
passing back of table he notices a piece of music on it 
and stops to look at it, picking it up.] 

Jim. Wonder whose this is. [Turns to front page 
and notices name.] Mildred’s! She must have left it. 
[Opening it, he reads the words he finds, which are 
German.] 

4 f Still wie die nacht, 

Tief wie das meer, 

Soil deine liebe sein.” 

[He pauses a moment as if lost in deep reflection and 
then slowly says the words in English.] 

“Calm as the night, 

Deep as the sea, 

Should be thy love for me . 9 ’ 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 17 

[He repeats the last line slowly and then shows that 
an idea has occurred to him.] 

Jim. Ill try it. Perhaps it will work. [ Steps 
quickly to rear door.] Rawlins! Rawlins! Yon there ? 
[Pauses.] Rawlins! [He has the music in his hand.] 

Rawlins. Did you call, sir? 

Jim. Miss Mildred’s on the program tonight, isn’t 
she ? 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. 

Jim. How soon? 

Rawlins. Before long, sir. 

Jim [Handing him music]. Take this to her and 
hurry. Tell her she is to sing it by request. Understand ? 

Rawlins. Perfectly, sir. 

Jim. And if she asks who gave it to you tell her you 
were told not to tell. See? 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. 

Jim. Then be quick. 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. [Exits rear to left.] 

Jim [Turning]. I wonder if she will. Perhaps she 
herself can make him understand. 

[He goes back to the rear door and looks cautiously 
down the hall, with his back toward audience, and while 
in that position Billy enters hurriedly from the music- 
room.] 

Billy [At door and apparently cool and deliberate]. 
It’s a nice mess you’ve made of this. [With suppressed 
excitement.] 

Jim [Coming toward him]. Did you give her the 
note ? 

Billy. Yes. [Forcing himself to keep quiet.] 

Jim. What did she do? 

Billy. Read it, of course. 


18 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Jim. What then? 

Billy. I gave it to her.—She was in the door to the 
hall.—And while she was reading it I went over to the 
stairs and waited.—When she finished—she came to me 
—and asked where you were. 

Jim. You told her—? 

Billy. I told her you were here. [Loudly at the end 
and crossing toward him.] 

Jim [Coolly]. Don’t get excited. What then? 

Billy. She said—but what difference what she said? 
I could tell by her face it’s not so. 

Jim. Where is she? 

Billy. Still in the hall. She says if you won’t see 
her she’s coming in anyway. 

Jim. Bring her in. 

[Billy goes hack to door L. and Jim goes up to door 
rear and looks down hallway, left, and then speaks 
sharply and subdued.] 

Jim. Wait! There’s Mildred, and she’s coming this 
way. Don’t you understand? [Excited.] She mustn’t 
see me here. 

Billy. What are you 'going to do ? 

Jim [Quickly]. Go at once and take her into the 
other room and then come back. 

Billy. I’ll do nothing of the sort. 

Jim. Do as I say, if you want me to— 

[A girl’s voice is heard in the hall and laughingly she 
says , “1 will in a minute. I left some music in here 
The voice is almost at the door and Jim draws hack 
toward window. Billy is caught by the excitement and 
crosses quickly up to rear door.] 

Billy. You’ll be here when I— 

Jim [Excitedly interrupting]. I’ll be here. Hurry! 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


19 


[Billy goes out, turning L., and the girl’s laughter 
stops. After a pause Jim gives a breath of relief and 
goes to rear of table, leaning against it, alternately watch¬ 
ing the rear door and the one L., fearing he may yet be 
caught. After a moment or so Billy comes back through 
the door from the music-room.'] 

Jim [Quickly]. Where did Mildred go? 

Billy. She’s at the piano. She was coming to get 
some music she’d left, but Rawlins found her and gave 
it to her. 

Jim [Relieved']. Oh! 

Billy [ Returning to his former manner]. But what 
about Miss Loring? She’s waiting. 

Jim. I wonder if it’s safe to have her come here. 

Billy. Why not? You’re afraid.—You— [ Defi¬ 

antly.] 

Jim. Don’t lose your head. [Rapidly.] The people 
in there think there’s no one in here. They’ve seen you 
come several times already and if they see her come 
they’d think there was trouble. 

Billy. An easy way to get out of it! 

Jim [Not noticing and thinking hard]. Tell her to 
say to Mildred she’s going on the front porch for some 
air and then to go quietly into the hall and out. I 'll go 
out the side door and around to the front and meet 
her. [Pointing from U. R. to D. R. and across the foots 
to D. L., the supposed direction of the front door.] 
Does that suit you? 

Billy. Yes. Where will I stay? 

Jim. Here; and wait for me. 

Billy. I’ll wait. [With inference.] 

[Jim goes up to door rear and picks up his hat in 


20 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


passing. He goes out to R. in direction of side door and 
it is heard to close.] 

Billy. Huh! [Sneeringly and disgusted.] 

[He crosses to window and looks out and then to chair 
R. of table and lighting cigarette he sits down and waits. 
By this time another number is on in the music-room.] 
[Rawlins enters, excited.] 

Rawlins [Seeing Jim is not there]. Where’s Mr. 
Creswell, sir? 

Billy. He’s gone. 

Rawlins [Noticing his coat]. But his coat is— 
Billy. He ’ll be back presently. What’s the matter ? 
Rawlins. I must see him personally. I’ve got to go 
to the serving room now to prepare the supper and I 
wanted to see him first. 

Billy. Is there anything I can tell him ? 

Rawlins. No, sir. Miss Mildred— 

Billy [Interrupting]. What about her? 

Rawlins. She— [Pauses.] 

[The side door is heard to close.] 

Billy. There he is now. I must see him myself first. 
Go at once. 

[Rawlins goes reluctantly into hall, turns L. Jim 
enters from hall from opposite direction. He is tired 
and shows an ordeal has taken place.] 

Billy. Well ? 

Jim. Go in there, Billy. [Pointing L.] You’ll be 
back in a minute. 

[Without a word Billy goes. Jim puts his hat down 
by his coat and then goes up to rear door, waits a 
moment and then calls softly.] 

Jim. Rawlins! Rawlins! 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


21 


[There is no reply and he goes hack to table. He stands 
there waiting a minute and Rawlins comes in.] 

Rawlins. I was here a moment ago, sir, to see yon, 
and Mr. DeWitt sent me out. 

Jim. Did you hear me call just now? 

Rawlins. No, sir; I was busy in the serving room. 

Jim. Well, what is it? 

Rawlins. Miss Mildred, sir — [ Pausing and fum¬ 

bling for something in his vest pocket .] 

Jim. Miss Mildred? What about her? 

Rawlins. She told me to see you at once, sir,—and— 
[,Searching in the other vest pocket .] 

Jim. Go on. Mr. DeWitt will be here in a moment 
and— 

[And at the moment Billy returns from music-room , 
standing excitedly in the door. A complete change has 
taken place.] 

Billy. Jim! 

Jim [Turning toward him]. Yes? 

Billy. I want to speak to you alone—at once. 

Jim. All right. Rawlins, will you go now? Come 
back as soon as you can. 

Rawlins. Yes, sir. [Goes out rear to L.] 

Jim. Well, Billy? [Standing U. C.] 

Billy. She’s gone. 

Jim. I thought she would. 

Billy [Controlling his voice]. What did you say to 
her out on the porch? 

Jim. The same things I told you here—and a few 
more facts you wouldn’t give me time for. 

Billy. What were they? 

Jim. What difference does that make now, Billy? 
You see she’s gone and that’s all we were after. 


22 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


Billy [Rubbing his forehead with the back of his fist 
and looking dazedly out]. Gone! [ Crosses to chair L. 
of table and sits.] Gone! [Burying his face in one arm 
on the table.] Oh—! 

[Jim doesn’t move at once, but watches him a moment 
and then crosses to him, but doesn’t touch him.] 

Jim. Come, Billy,—come, old man! [Pause.] Tell 
me what happened. 

Billy [Holding position a moment and then slowly 
looking up]. When I went in I saw Mildred first. It 
seemed she was waiting for me. I don’t know why,— 
but it seemed that way. 

Jim. That’s strange. [As if to himself.] 

Billy. I asked her where—where Lucy was and she 
said she’d gone upstairs to get her things—that she’d 
been called home suddenly. [Quickly.] Jim, that’s 
what your note said. 

Jim. Sure. 

Billy. And then she came down and said “good¬ 
night ’ ’ to Mildred and looked at me a moment—and then 
went out—without a word—and was gone. 

Jim [Turning away and then quickly back again]. 
What did Mildred do? 

Billy. She watched me and saw me come here. 

Jim. Well? • 

Billy. I can’t help it if she did notice it. I had to 
see you at once. Jim, I’ve been a fool, as you say, and 
I ask your— 

Jim. You needn’t say that, Billy. I understand. 
What did Mildred do? 

Billy. I think she would have followed me here, but 
someone came up and spoke to her and she turned back 
to the piano and picked up a piece of music. 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


23 


Jim. Billy,—Mrs. Shepherd is gone now. Do you 
remember what Mildred said in her note—about you, 
Billy ? 

Billy. Yes, Jim.—But I —don’t you see—don’t you 
understand— ? 

[Just then the piano is heard and Jim recognizes the 
introduction to the song.] 

Jim. Listen, Billy. It’s Mildred’s song. [Very ear¬ 
nestly .] Won’t you try, old man? 

[Before Billy can reply Mildred’s voice is heard. 
Each holds his position, looking straight out, busy with 
his own thoughts, and listening. About half way 
through the first verse Jim crosses noiselessly back to 
the window. Billy doesn’t notice, as he is looking ahead. 
At the end of the first verse Jim comes down back of 
Billy and puts his hand on his shoulder .] 

Jim. Billy, when the gates of Heaven are open to 
you, must St. Peter and his angels come out and kick 
you in ? Must they, Billy ? Can’t you hear them calling 
you? 

[Billy makes no response and turns his head away. 
Rawlins appears from music-room door, empty tray in 
hand, quickly entering.'] 

Jim. Well? What is it? 

Rawlins. I must speak to you a moment, Mr. Cres- 
well. [Crossing up stage to rear door, Jim following 
him.] Miss Mildred asked me to give you this note, sir. 

Jim. Miss Mildred? How did she know I was here? 
[Quickly.] 

Rawlins. I don’t know, sir; but she said you are to 
read it at once and give me an answer. I ’ll be back in a 
minute, sir. 

[Jim takes the note and Rawlins exits rear to L. Jim 



24 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


comes down back of table, opens note and reads it. He 
looks up quickly, wonderingly and with an eager smile 
listens to the last notes of the song. The applause at its 
finish is louder than after the other numbers and Mildred 
begins again the last verse as an encore. Just before the 
end of it Jim speaks.] 

Jim. Billy! 

Billy. Well? [Starting.] 

Jim. She knew I was here all the time. 

Billy [Blankly]. Who? 

Jim. Mildred, of course. 

Billy. Oh—How did she know? 

Jim. She found on the stairs the note you took to 
Mrs. Shepherd. Saw my name on it and knew my writ¬ 
ing, and, of course, knew it was written here. 

[This brings Billy quickly to his senses.] 

Billy. What did she do with it? 

Jim. She returned it with a note to me. Here it is. 
Shall I tear it up ? 

Billy. Yes. 

[Jim docs so, walks over to fireplace and throws the 
pieces of paper on the blaze. He crosses to back of table 
again.] 

Jim. And Billy? 

Billy. Yes. 

Jim. This song she just finished—I sent in to her to 
sing for your sake,—so you could understand,—and she 
says she understood why I did it,—but that she was to 
sing it anyway,—and that she sang it—just for me— 
because— 

f. y ■ ~ •_ . • 4 

Billy [Rising and quickly facing him]. Jim—I— 

Jim. Because—Oh, I can’t tell you,—let me read it. 
[Reading.] “Because what you were trying to make 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


25 


Billy see was not so much for his sake as for the sake of 
my happiness,—so I think, Jim, after all I would rather 
trust my happiness to the man who could do as big a 
thing as that.” 

Billy. Jim! 

Jim [Continuing reading ivithout looking up]. “And 
tell Billy that I’ve known who Mrs. Shepherd was ever 
since she came to town.” 

[He looks quickly at Billy, who turns away with a 
smothered exclamation of almost shame, and covers his 
face with his hand.] 

Jim [Quickly]. Listen, old man. Don’t speak until 
I’ve finished. [With an exuberance of tone.] You 
know what this means to me. It means,—oh, it means 
everything. At this minute life holds more than it did 
in all its preceding years. And I see things somehow 
just as they should be. [Billy is listening.] And I’m 
sorry about—about the other,—but don’t you see all this 
was just the hand of Providence showing you,—and 
Mildred,—and me the right direction? And that hand, 
Billy, is always pointing that way, only sometimes we 
don’t see it immediately. And give Him time, old man, 
and he ’ll show you the right way again, and to the right 
girl. See? [Brightening his manner.] Mildred wants 
me to send a reply by Rawlins as to when I’ll see her. 
Will you go in and tell her for me? 

Billy. Don’t ask me, Jim. I’m going home.—I'm 
very glad for you. 

Jim. You’re going in there and see her at once. 
Don’t you understand if you face it now how much 
easier it will be tomorrow in the cold light of day? 

' . v f- f ‘ - . . _ t 1 • W- » 

Billy [After a momentary struggle and gaining his 


26 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


composure ]. All right. [Smiling.] What shall I tell 
her? 

Jim. She suggests some time tomorrow, but tell her 
that in just tw r o hours, when everybody is gone, I'll be 
back and will see her tonight. [Slapping him on the 
shoulder and half-laughing.] Tonight, Billy. Do you 
get that? 

Billy [Crossing to door L. and almost losing his 
regained self-control, and he turns]. Jim—I— 

Jim [Seeing his predicament and sobering instantly]. 
Go at once, Billy. [Pointing to door.] 

Billy [Holding out his hand toward him]. Good¬ 
night—my friend. [He turns quickly and abruptly 
leaves the room.] 

[As he goes the strains of a brilliant Chopin polonaise 
are heard from the music-room, beginning the last num¬ 
ber. Jim goes quickly to get his coat and hat, and as he 
picks them up Rawlins appears in rear door from L., 
carrying a tray piled with napkins.] 

Rawlins. What shall I tell Miss Mildred, sir? 

Jim. Tell her that before long her mother is going 
to be in danger of losing a very good servant. 

RxYwlins. Sir? [Quickly putting tray on table and 
facing him.] 

Jim. Don’t you understand? [Smiling.] 

Rawlins [Starting as he thinks he realizes, and then 
smiles back]. I hopes so, sir. But about the note, sir? 

Jim. Mr. DeWitt is tending to that, thank you. 

Rawlins. The show’s most over in there, sir, and if 
you want to go before they see you, sir, you’d better 
hurry. 

Jim. Going! Help me with my coat, [Rawlins 


BILLY AND THE DIRECTING FATES 


27 


goes to him and does so.] There! Thank you. Is the 
way clear to the side door, Rawlins? 

Rawlins [Going to hall and looking out]. Yes, sir. 
Jim. Let me out, then. [They go toward door.] 
And Rawlins, I’ll be back about midnight and then I’ll 
come in the front door. [Laughingly.] 

Rawlins. Very good, sir. 

[They quickly exit toward the side door and in a 
moment, above the music, the door is heard to close. 
The stage is quiet a moment, except for the music, and 
then, just as it finishes and the applause is heard, 
Rawlins enters rear from R. With a sigh he goes to 
table and picks up his tray of napkins, and speaks.] 
Rawlins. Oh, well, it’s none of my business anyway. 
[Then a little laughter is heard in the music-room and 
as the program is over in there the conversation is 
accordingly more animated and louder, and then to the 
buzz of it and the laughter, with a blank, inscrutable and 
“butleresque” expression on his bland countenance, and 
feeling his importance in the household, Rawlins 
crosses down to the door L. and quietly and with all the 
dignity he can command, he passes into the other room. 
As the door ope7is the noise sounds louder and as the 
door closes just the buzz of it is heard again. And after 
the door has been closed for a second or two the wind is 
heard outside in dreary contrast to the brightly blazing 
hearth and the merriment in the atmosphere, and then 
the curtain slowly is lowered. 


Diamonds and Hearts 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts 

By EFFIE W. MERRIMAN 

Price, 25 cents 

This play has become one of the most popular in America. The 
good plot, the strong “heart” interest, and the abundant comedy 
all combine to make a most excellent drama. “Bub” Barnes is a 
fine character of the Josh Whitcomb type, and his sister is a worthy 
companion “bit.” Sammy is an excruciatingly funny little darkey. 
The other characters are good. Fine opportunity for introducing 
specialties. The play has so many good points that it never fails 
to be a success. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

BERNICE HALSTEAD, a young lady of eighteen, with an affec¬ 
tion of the heart, a love for fun and hatred of arithmetic. 

AMY HALSTEAD, her sister, two years younger, fond of frolic, - 
INEZ GRAY, a young lady visitor, willing to share in the fun..... 
MRS. HALSTEAD, a widow, and stepmother of the Halstead girls 
HANNAH MARY BARNES, or “Sis,” a maiden lady who keeps 

house for her brother . 

DWIGHT BRADLEY, a fortune hunter and Mrs. Halstead’s son 

by a former marriage. 

DR.. BURTON, a young physician. 

SAMMY, the darkey bell-boy in the Halstead house. 

ABRAHAM BARNES, or “Bub,” a yankee farmer, still unmar¬ 
ried at forty—a diamond in the rough.. 

ATTORNEY; SHERIFF . 

Time of playing, two hours. 

Two interior scenes. Modern costumes. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 

Act. 1. Parlor of the Halstead home. The young doctor. Tha 
three girls plot to make his acquaintance. An affection of the heart. 
“Easy to fool a young doctor,” but not so easy after all. The step¬ 
mother and her son. The stolen diamonds. The missing will. 
Plot to win Bernice. “I would not marry Dwight Bradley for all 
the wealth the world contains.” Driven from home. 

Act 2. Kitchen of the Barnes’ farm house. Bub takes off his# 
boots. The new school ma’am. “Supper’s ready.” “This is our 
nephew and he’s a doctor.” Recognition. A difficult problem in 
arithmetic. The doctor to the rescue. “I’m just the happiest girl 
In the -world.” “I’ve come to pop the question, an’ why don’t I 
do it?” Brother and sister. “If it’s a heifer, it’s teh be mine.” 
The sheriff. Arrested for stealing the diamonds. “Let me knock 
yer durned head off.” The jew r els found in Bernice’s trunk. 

Act 3. Parlor of the Halstead home. “That was a lucky stroke 
—hiding those diamonds in her trunk.” The schemer’s plot miscar¬ 
ries. Abe and Sammy join hands. The lawyer. “Bully for her.” 
Bradley tries to escape. “No, ye don’t!” Arrested. “It means, 
dear, that you are to be persecuted no more.” Wedding presents, 
and a war dance around them. “It is no trick at all to fool a 
young doctor.” 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 









Joe Ruggles 

OR 

THE GIRL MINER 

A Comedy Drama m Four Acts 

By FRANK J. DEAN 

Price, 25 cents 

Nine male, three female characters, A vigorous, stirring play, 
depicting peculiar types of life in a large city and in the mining 
districts of the West. The parts of Joe Ruggles, the miner, Hans 
"Von Bush (Dutch dialect), and Richard Hamilton, the scheming 
villain, all afford opportunity for clever work; while the part of 
Madge (soubrette), who afterwards assumes the character of Mark 
J.ynch, is an excellent one for a bright young actress. 

Scenery—City street, showing R. R. Station; rocky pass, with 
eet cabins; a wood scene, and two plain interiors. Costumes of the; 
day. Time of playing, two and a half hours. 

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS 
ACT I—Enlrancc to Railroad Station 

Looking for a victim—Joe Ruggles—“Them galoots is worse than 
grizzlies”—“Morning papers”—Madge and Bess plying their trades— 
“Can’t you sing Joe a song?”—Hamilton and his pal confer—Tom 
Howarth gains inportant information—“Don’t you dare to lay 
hands on us!”—Hamilton tries to maintain his authority—“Whoi 
Old Joe!” 

ACT II — Doomsday's Hotel. Dare-devil's Gulch, California 

The landlord secures a guest—Hans disappointed—“Dot is a mis- 
dake”—A ghost story—The “Kid and his sister”—“Did I hurt your 
highness?”—Hans and Doomsday have another talk—Kate Laurel 
meets the young miner—“Yah, dot vas vot J t’inks”—Madge’s dis¬ 
guise penetrated—She recognizes an old enemy—“Now, George 
Smith, take your choice”—Joe Ruggles as a tramp—“Ef yer think 
yer can pick on me because I’m han’some ye’ll find me ter hum”— 
Hamilton appears—“Those two youngsters are mine”—The tramp 
takes a hand. 

ACT III-Wood Scene 

A lively ghost—Hamilton and Smith plan more villainy—Old Joe 
thinks of turning Detective—Kate Laurel again—“There is a secret 
connected with my life”—Kate’s confession—“What do you mean, 
snr?”—Tom Howarth once more—“Vos you looking for a hotel?”—• 
Planning an abduciion—Old Joe as an Irishman—“Phat does yez 
■want wid me?”—Undertakes to be a detective—Takes a hand in 
the abduction—“Do it at your peril.” 

ACT IV 

Hans hears, and tells, the latest news— “I nefer pelieved dot 
spook peesness”—Kate Laurel astonished—Hamilton attempts 
flight—“De poys haf got Mr. Hamilton, und dey vill gif him a 
necktie bartv”—Arrest of Smith—“Get out mit my vay, I vas de 
United States Mail”—Tom meets his old friend under new circum¬ 
stances—“Do you want me, Tom?”—Old Joe gives consent— A 
Siappy ending. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 


Capt. Racket 

A Comedy* in Three Acts 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND 
Price, 25 cents 


This play by Mr. Townsend is probably one of hts most popular 
productions; it certainly is one of his best. It is full of action from 
etart to finish. Comic situations rapidly follow one after another, 
and the act endings are especially strong and lively. Every char¬ 
acter is good and affords abundant opportunity for effective work. 
Can be played by five men and three women, if desired. The 
same scene is used for all the acts, and it is an easy interior. A 
most excellent play for repertoire companies. No seeker for & 
good play can afford to ignore it. 

CHARACTERS 

CAPT. ROBERT RACKET, one of the National Guard. A lawyer 

when he has nothing else to do, and a liar all the time. 

.Comedy lead 

OBADIAH DAWSON, his uncle, from Japan, “where they make 

tea”.Comedy old man 

TIMOTHY TOLMAN, his friend, who married for money, and is 

sorry for it.Juvenile man 

MR. DALROY, his father-in-law, jolly old cove.Eccentric 

HOBSON, waiter from the “Cafe Gloriana,” who adds to the 

confusion . Utility 

CLARICE, the Captain’s pretty wife, out for a lark, and up to 

“anything awful”.Comedy lead 

MRS. TOLMAN, a lady with a temper, who finds her Timothy a 

vexation of spirit.Old woman 

KATY, a mischievous maid.Soubrette 

TOOTSY, the “Kid,” Tim’s olive branch.Props. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. Place: Tim’s country home on the Hudson near New 
York. Time: A breezy morning in September. The Captain’s 
fancy takes a flight and trouble begins. 

Act II. Place: the same. Time: the next morning. How one 
yarn requires another. “The greatest liar unhung.” Now the 
trouble increases and the Captain prepares for war. 

Act III. Place: the same. Time: Evening of the same day. 
More misery. A general muddle. “Dance or you’ll die.” Cornered 
at last. The Captain owns up. All serene. 

Time of playing: Two hours. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 














Dumont's 

Minstrel Joke Book 

Price, 25 cents 


A Collection of jokes arranged for End-Men, both professional and 
amateur. Never before collected and published in a clear manner 
and with bright dialogue for End-Men and Interlocutor. They 
form a book of the newest, most humorous and quaintest matter 
ever arranged. Any reader may, with assured success, deliver them 
to any assemblages before whom he may appear. 

Mr. Dumont himself says: “This collection of jokes and dia¬ 
logues is the careful gathering of years—and only the best and 
‘sure laugh’ producers are incorporated in this book.’’ 


PARTIAL CONTENTS 

Arithmetic of Love, “Ask a Policeman,’’ All about Novels, At Nia¬ 
gara Falls, “A. P. A.” and Bricks, Advantages of Education, All 
Sorts, Army and its Soldiers, Bad Case of Lying, Base Ball, Breach 
of Promise, Burglars, Boston’s Correct Language, Bravery in Battle, 
Fishing, Funny Signs and Borrowed Pants, Fish makes Brains, 
Firing off the Cannon, Climatic Changes, Clancy as a Diver, 
“Couldn’t find a Policeman.” Colonel Pepper, “Curiosities for Mu¬ 
seums,” Conundrums, Cruelty to Animals, Country and Don’t Drink, 
Couldn’t take the Job, Comic Recitations, Cork Leg, “Casabianca,” 
“Dreams,” Ducks and Indians, Dutchman’s Bet, “Daniel,” Eating 
Dumplings, Epitaphs, Editing a Newspaper, Eating by Weight, Ed¬ 
ucated Horse, The Mule Battery, “Making Both Ends Meet,” The 
Mind Reader, Missed the Hearse, Mixed Breed of Chickens, Married 
into a mean Family, Making a Pair of Shoes, Man’s Ribs and Angel 
Cake, The New Poet, Never Happened, On the Battlefield, Off to the 
Seat of War, Our Brothers, Old Cider Barrel, Origin of Songs. 
Opinion on Man and Woman, Gratitude, Hotel Regulations, Hold 
your Head Up, How is Business, Plow Different Girls Kiss, Hash 
for the Navy, “Has not Caught Me Yet,” Irish Monologue, It Runs 
in the Family, “If a River were between all Men and Women.” 
Jumping Frog, Kissing, Kiss Sociable, Keep off the Grass, Kissing 
in the Tunnel, Lawyer and Doctor, Lost Umbrella, Liquor Assists 
Nature, Learning the Bike, Love and Matrimony, Law in Alaska, 
Shoemaker’s Daughter, Singing at the Party, Storm at Sea, Spot¬ 
ted Dog, Swallowed an Egg, Second Time on Earth, Signs, Sorry 
he didn’t Take it Cold, Progress, Parson’s Sermon on Crap Shoot¬ 
ing, Poultry and Fruit, Power of Language, Perhaps I Will and 
Perhaps I Won’t, Peculiarities of Speech, Pumpkin Pie, Patriotic 
Alphabet, Queer Advertisements, Ragged Jacket, Raising Grass¬ 
hoppers, Taught His Wife a Lesson, Thought it was a Boat-race, 
The Telephone, Thief with a Roman Nose, Taxes on Luxuries, 
Transfusion of Blood, Took the Dead Mans’ Dollar, Two Good Liars, 
Three Realistic Dreams, Takes It just the same, “Twinkle, Twinkle 
Little Star,” Very Good Tip, Very Large Punch Bowl, Very Mean 
Father, “We are Letters,” “Went Home for his Pipe,” “Why is a 
Ship called “She?” “What is Love?” “We are all Bottles,” “Wish 
the Gun had gone off,” Writing a Novel. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 





Santiago 

OR 

For the Red, White and Blue 

A "War Drama in Four Acts 

By JOHN A. FRASER 
Price, 25 cents 
CHARACTERS 

Capt. Oscar Hutton, U. S. A. In love with Cora. .Leading- Juvenile 


Lieut. Fisk, U. S. A. In love with his duty.Juvenile bit 

Milton Merry, U. S. N. In love with Bess.Light Comedy 

Lieut. Cristobal, S. A. In love with soldiering.Straight 


Dr. Harrison, Red Cross H. S. In love with surgery. 

.Straight old man 

Elmer Walton, banker. In love with Spanish bonds. 

.Character old man 

Phillip Basset, his stepson. In love with Ysobel.Juvenile 

Fernando Diaz, Walton’s cashier, afterwards S. A. In love with 

Cora . Heavy 

Beverly Brown, Walton’s butler, afterwards Red Cross H. S. In 

love with chickens.Negro Comedy 

Cornelius Dwyer, Walton’s coachman, afterwards U. S. A. In 

love with “Naygurs”.Irish Comedy 

Antonio Carlos, a Cuban planter. In love with Spain. 

.Character old man 

Cora Basset, Walton’s stepdaughter. In love with Oscar. .Juvenile 

Bess Walton, Walton’s daughter. In love with Milton.Ingenue 

Ysobel Carlos, Antonio’s daughter. In love with Phillip... .Juvenile 
American Soldiers, American Sailors, Spanish Soldiers, Guerillas. 

Actual time of playing, two hours. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT I. The ball at Walton’s, Washington, D. C. Handsome in¬ 
terior. 

ACT IT. The Red Cross Hospital. First day’s battle of Santiago. 
Exterior. 

ACT III. Scene 1.—Interior Guerilla headquarters in the Sierra 
Cobra, near Santiago. Scene 2 . —Exterior. The underbrush of Si¬ 
erra Cobra. Scene 3 . —Fight in the mountain pass, second day’s 
battle of Santiago. Exterior. 

ACT IV. Hotel Tacon, Santiago, on the night of the surrender. 
Interior. 

NOTE.—Walton, Dr. Harrison and Carlos may double easily, and 
the piece played with nine males, three females. 

The best Cuban war play ever written. Easy to produce, but 
very effective. Thrilling situations, fine comedy, intense climaxes. 
Comic Irishman and Negro. Three magnificent female parts. Pic¬ 
turesque Spanish villain and heroic juvenile lead. No special scen¬ 
ery is required, as every regular theatre, in its ordinary equip¬ 
ment, has every set called for. Adapted to both professional ana 
amateur companies. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 
















Hageman's Make-Up Book 

By MAURICE HAGEMAN 
Price, 25 cents 

f .ie importance of an effective make-up is becoming more appar* 
ent to the professional actor every year, but hitherto there has been 
no book on the subject describing the modern methods and at the 
same time covering all branches of the art. This want has now 
been filled. Mi\ Hageman has had an experience of twenty years 
as actor and stage-manager, and his well-known literary ability has 
enabled him to put the knowledge so gained into shape to be of 
use to others. The book is an encyclopedia of the art of making up. 
Every branch of the subject is exhaustively treated, and few ques¬ 
tions can be asked by professional or amateur that cannot be an¬ 
swered by this admirable hand-book It is not only the best make¬ 
up book ever published, but it is not likely to be superseded by 
any other. It is absolutely indispensable to every ambitious actor 

CONTENTS 

Chapter I. General Remarks. 

Chapter II. Grease-Paints, their origin, components and use. 

Chapter III. The Make-up Box. Grease-Paints, Mirrors, Face 
Powder and Puff, Exora Cream, Rouge, Liquid Color, Grenadine, 
Blue for the Eyelids, Brilliantine for the Hair, Nose Putty, Wig 
Paste, Mascaro, Crape Hair, Spirit Gum, Scissors, Artists’ Stomps, 
Cold Cream, Cocoa Butter, Recipes for Cold Cream. 

Chapter IV. Preliminaries before Making up; the Straight Make¬ 
up and how to remove it. 

Chapter V. Remarks to Ladies. Liquid Creams, Rouge, Lips, 
Eyebrows, Eyelashes, Character Roles, Jewelry, Removing Make-up. 

Chapter VI. Juveniles. Straight Juvenile Make-up, Society 
Men, Young Men in Ill Health, with Red Wigs, Rococo Make-up, 
Hands, Wrists, Cheeks, etc. 

Chapter VII. Adults, Middle Aged and Old Men. Ordinary Type 
of Manhood, Lining Colors, Wrinkles, Rouge, Sickly and Healthy 
Old Age, Ruddy Complexions. 

Chapter VIII. Comedy and Character Make-ups. Comedy Ef¬ 
fects, Wigs, Beards, Eyebrows, Noses, Lips, Pallor of Death. 

Chapter IX. The Human Features. The Mouth and Lips, the 
Eyes and Eyelids, the Nose, the Chin, the Ear, the Teeth. 

Chapter X. Other Exposed Parts of the Human Anatomy. 

Chapter XI. Wigs, Beards, Moustaches, and Eyebrows. Choosing 
a Wig, Powdering the Hair, Dimensions for Wigs, Wig Bands, Bald 
Wigs. Ladies’ Wigs, Beards on Wire, on Gauze, Crape Hair, Wool, 
Beards for Tramps, Moustaches, Eyebrows. 

Chapter XII. Distinctive and Traditional Characteristics. North 
American Indians, New England Farmers, Hoosiers, Southerners, 
Politicians, Cowboys, Minors, Quakers, Tramps, Creoles, Mulattoes, 
Quadroons, Octoroons, Negroes, Soldiers during War, Soldiers dur¬ 
ing Peace, Scouts, Pathfinders, Puritans, Early Dutch Settlers, 
Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, 
Portuguese, South Americans, Scandinavians, Germans, Hollanders. 
Hungarians, Ginsies, Russians, Turks, Arabs, Moors, Caffirs, Abys- 
sinians, Hindoos, Malays, Chinese, Japanese, Clowns and Statuary, 
He b ”ews, Drunkards, Lunatics, Idiots, Misers, Rogues. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

'-.HICAGO, ILLINOIS 


mSESSL* “ngress 



PLAYJ 

And Entertainment Books. 

'JOEING the largest theatrical booksellers in 
lit* the United States, we keep in stock the most 
complete and best assorted lines of plays and en* 
tertainment books to be found anywhere. 

We can supply any play or book pub¬ 
lished. We have issued a catalogue of the best 
plays and entertainment books published in 
America and England. It contains a full 
description of each play, giving number of char¬ 
acters, time of playing, scenery, costumes, etc. 
This catalogue will be sent free on application. 

The plays described are suitable for ama¬ 
teurs and professionals, and nearly all of them 
may be played free of royalty. Persons inter¬ 
ested in dramatic books should examine our cat¬ 
alogue before ordering elsewhere. 

We also carry a full line of grease paints, 
face powders, hair goods, and other 4 ‘make-up” 
materials. 


The Dramatic Publishing Company 
CHICAGO 



